


I'm Only Here For This Moment

by Caedmon



Series: Amelioration in Budapest [6]
Category: Marvel, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Clint Feels, Clintasha - Freeform, Difficult Decisions, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Natasha Feels, Romance, Slow Burn, Slow Dancing, easing up on the angst, feels feels everywhere, still a little angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-12 14:47:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2113932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caedmon/pseuds/Caedmon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha does some deep thinking and some background checking. Clint takes Natasha on a date.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Only Here For This Moment

**Author's Note:**

> Stop.
> 
> Before you go any further, go listen to "Everybody Here Wants You" by Jeff Buckley.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nrMwgTc69y4  
> I was listening to that song when I wrote a scene in this chapter, and it would really help you to know what song I'm talking about. Plus, it's a REALLY great song. It's slow burn set to music. Again, the chapter wasn't inspired by the song...it was just the best song to ...well, listen to the song, read the scene and you'll see why I chose it.
> 
> The title is an excerpted lyric.
> 
> I own nothing. I'm pretty poor.

Natasha needed to think. She had expected this morning with Clint to be intense, but she hadn't expected what she’d gotten. The morning hadn’t gone at all how she’d planned, and she was shaken. She needed to think. 

Physical exertion always cleared her cobwebs. She thought best when she was on autopilot; either running, sparring with a dummy or dancing. Only Clint knew she still danced - it was a secret she kept private, like a hidden little treasure. The safe house was a great little house, but it was only two bedrooms, a bathroom, a kitchen and living room. Sparse but comfortable. No room for a sparring dummy. 

So Natasha ran. It served the dual purpose of keeping her in some kind of shape (although after so long she knew she was rusty) and it gave her the clarity she had come to Hungary for in the first place.

Natasha had never imagined in any of her wildest daydreams that he would _actually_ love her back. Of course she had hoped for it, but she had never thought it might happen for her in her real, actual life. 

She locked her door and stepped out on to the sidewalk to stretch. She grabbed one wrist and pulled it over her head, feeling the stretch, bending to the side to intensify the feeling. Straightening, she grabbed the opposite wrist and pulled, bending, looking out of the street as she felt her skin and muscles stretch over her ribs. 

Suddenly, unbidden, the thought of Clint running his hands along her body where the muscles were pulled taut while whispering he loved her against her neck leapt into her mind, and she stood bolt upright.

_Calm down, Natasha. Get a hold of yourself._

She grabbed her left foot and pulled it to her bottom, leaning forward, stretching her thigh and arching her back, elongating her abdomen. She dropped her left foot and grabbed her right foot, pulling it in and leaning. Suddenly, Clint was there in her mind, pressing his lips against the soft flesh of her belly, telling her that he loved her and he’d always loved her - that he always _would_ love her.

She dropped her foot and started running.

The air felt good, cleansing, the automation of her motions allowing her brain to clear and think, analyzing everything that had been done and said. 

Clint loved her. He’d loved her for nearly five years. She’d loved him a lot longer than that, that’s for sure, but it didn’t matter at all, save the fact that they’d missed almost three years together. He’d rescued her from Stalingrad nine years ago when she was seventeen. She was completely gone for him two years later, the final push into hopelessly-lost-in-love coming in in Hong Kong. She’d never loved any man before or since; for Natasha Romanov, it was Clint Barton or no one. But she’d learned in the Red Room that she was unloveable. Even though SHIELD and Clint and taught her that so many things the Red Room had taught her were wrong, she’d never felt loved. Cared about, maybe, okay. She couldn’t deny that Clint cared about her, or Steve or Phil or even Fury. But none of them _loved_ her. Her unloveability was deeply ingrained in her.

But Clint had never, ever lied to her. He and always been completely honest with her. She knew all of his tells, he’d given none of them last night or this morning. He’d been bleeding sincerity when he’d said he loved her. 

Natasha turned a corner and entered the local park, picking up the pace.

But he hadn’t been showing any signs of lying when she’d been with him in his cell that day, either. He’d been completely genuine as he’d cut her to the bone. Had he truly gotten better and ousted Hydra from his brain? Had Hydra created him to be an unbeatable liar? Was he still under their control and sent to destroy her once and for all, using the one weakness that could utterly tear her down for good?

The questions, possibilities and scenarios chased themselves around in her brain as she ran faster and faster, trying to outrun them. Finally, she stopped and leaned against a tree, catching her breath. The choice she had to made was a serious one. Desire vs. danger. Fear vs. trust. Love vs. hate. Everything she’d ever wanted was right there in front of her, begging her to take it. 

She wanted to believe him so much, and her gut told her everything was going to be okay. But she had to be sure. Natasha Romanov was no fool, and only fools leapt before they looked. Good spies had backup plans and backup plans for those backup plans. The Black Widow was the best in the business, and with damned good reason. 

She pulled out her phone, tapped out a message and started running towards the little grocery two blocks from the safehouse. Her phone gave the message alert as the grocer rang up her groceries. _Files sent, hope they help you. Let me know what else you need to ease your mind. -T._

__Natasha paid the grocer, thanked him, and headed towards home to get ready for Clint._ _

__oOo_ _

__Clint sent Natasha the text that he was almost there from a block away like he had earlier that morning, but Natasha wasn't at the door when he arrived. He knocked, but didn’t get an answer after a few seconds. He rang the bell, trying not to worry or think about the hundred things that could have happened._ _

__He rang the bell again, forcing his breathing to remain normal as he counted to thirty. When he’d reached his goal number and taken his third deep breath with no answer, his control snapped. “Fuck this.” He still had access to this house, and he had to get in to make sure that she was -_ _

__The door opened as he reached for the hidden access panel and for the second time that day, all of the work he’d just done to control his automatic nervous system went right out of the window._ _

__Natasha was wearing a white eyelet lace dress that fell just below her knees. She’d let her hair down, and it fell to her shoulders in soft, auburn waves. Just the barest hint of makeup graced her face, just enough to give her a dewy glow._ _

__She looked at him slyly. “I’ve never seen you make that face, Clint.”_ _

__He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. It’s just that - well, I’ve never seen you look prettier than you look right now. And you’ve never dressed up before either…not for me.”_ _

__Natasha gave him the little smile he knew that only he ever got to see, the one that always undid him and got her everything she ever wanted out of him. “Maybe you just didn’t notice.”_ _

__He raised an eyebrow at her. “I don’t know how I could have missed this. But can I come in?”_ _

__She opened the door wider and stepped aside. “It looked like you were trying to.”_ _

__Clint stepped inside, having the grace to look a little ashamed. “Well, you didn’t come to the door, and I’d tried a couple of times. I was afraid -“_ _

__“I’d skipped town?”_ _

__He hated how damned perceptive she was._ _

__“Among other things.”_ _

__“Well, Hawkeye, I’m not going anywhere. Not that easily. I was promised a date.”_ _

__oOo_ _

__Natasha said that she wasn’t hungry just yet and wouldn’t mind a walk, so they decided to wait to share a meal. It wasn’t a long walk to the Danube, and Natasha slipped her shoes off as they reached the grassy areas beside the softly flowing water._ _

__Clint was constantly mindful; he and Natasha both had jobs and histories that demanded constant vigilance in any and all situations. Neither of them could ever truly let their guard down. He knew that under Natasha’s pretty, feminine dress she had at least three guns and her favorite pair of throwing knives, and that she’d be ready to fire any of them off in a flash. But he was immensely gratified to see her face and shoulders relax as they walked along. _She was trusting him._ Clint felt some of the tension leave his own body at the realization. _ _

__“So what name are you living under here?” he asked._ _

__“Tony didn’t tell you?”_ _

__“No.”_ _

__“Huh. I figured he would have told you everything.”_ _

__“No, he just said you were at the safehouse in Budapest, handed me a credit card and put me on a plane.”_ _

__Natasha laughed. “That sounds about right.”_ _

__“So…what should I call you?”_ _

__“Aja.”_ _

__“Aja?”_ _

__“Yes, like the old song. ‘Aja, when all my dime dancing is through, I’ll run to you.’”_ _

__“I know the song, but why that one?”_ _

__“Because when I got here, I was running away, seeking refuge. It made some kind of symbolic sense in my head.”_ _

__“I can see where you’re coming from. I like it, it fits you.”_ _

__Natasha’s cheeks dimpled as she brushed aside a wildflower with her foot and swung her sandals gently._ _

__“What’s your surname?” She ignored him, taking a few more steps towards the water. “Nat…-Aja?”_ _

__She sighed and crossed her arms across her chest, not looking at him. “Is it really so important?”_ _

__Clint cocked his head sideways. “Well, yeah. If you expect me to keep your cover, it is.”_ _

__She rolled her head around on her neck then turned to face him. “Buckley. Aja Buckley.”_ _

__Clint’s eyes narrowed, then his lips curled and his eyes twinkled at her. “You remember that night.”_ _

__“Drop it.”_ _

__“You do, don’t you?”_ _

__“Shut up, Clint.”  “You were thinking of me? Weren’t you?”_ _

__She dropped her arms and turned to walk away from him. “I said to _drop it_ , Clint.”_ _

__He reached out and grabbed her hand, spinning her back into his arms and held her flush against him, wrapping her own arm around her back and lacing his fingers with his in a loose hold she could break then break his arm in less than a second. “Not a chance in hell,” he growled. His other arm reached around her waist and pulled her closer. “Tell me, Natasha, tell me the truth. Tell me you picked ‘Buckley’ because of the night we danced. Tell me it meant something to you. Tell me the truth.”_ _

__Natasha looked up at him, her green eyes glinting, a slight smattering of freckles dotting across her perfect nose, her lips parted just a touch and Clint thought he may die if he didn’t taste her soon._ _

__She didn’t answer for a few seconds, and just as Clint was about to lower his head to hers…_ _

__“Can we go home? The wind coming off the river is a little cold.”_ _

___Dammit!_ _ _

__Clint released her immediately and cursed himself bitterly as she bent to put on her sandals. He’d pushed too hard, too soon and he wondered if he should just pack it in for New York tonight: if he’d taken his shot and missed it. _Dammit, Barton!__ _

__Natasha finished situating her shoes and stood up, smiling at Clint. He smiled back, trying valiantly to make it look genuine._ _

__When Natasha reached him she slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow and tugged slightly. He looked down, surprised, but pulled his hand out of his pocket. She slid her hand down his forearm and slipped it wordlessly into his._ _

__Clint beamed._ _

__oOo_ _

__Back at the safehouse, Natasha looked almost shy as she told him that she’d bought all the ingredients for basalmic mushroom chicken, and asked if he’d mind making it. Clint was a great cook and knew that was her favorite; he hadn’t made it for her in two years and if that’s what she wanted, he’d be thrilled to make it for her. He told her he’d be happy to make it as long as she kept him company. She agreed and Clint got to work._ _

__Natasha set her iPod on the dock to play music and settled in at the table with a glass of wine._ _

__“Clint?”_ _

__He didn’t look up from chopping garlic. “Yeah?”_ _

__“You seem different.”_ _

__“How do you mean?”_ _

__“The Clint I remember wasn’t so demonstrative, he never talked about feelings, none of this. You were much more standoffish, much more closed off before. What happened?”_ _

__He chuckled as he scraped the garlic into the bowl. “Well, I’ve spent two years with various people messing with my head for better or worse. All of my attention has been focused on my thoughts and feelings and trying to get them together, get them focused. I’m still in that mode, honestly. Trying to put into action what I figured out.”_ _

__She sat for a minute, contemplating his words while he started the next step._ _

__“Why have you never said anything before?”_ _

__He took a break from slicing chicken into strips to look up at her. “About?”_ _

__“About…loving me.”_ _

__“Oh.” She looked down, blushing and he looked back at the chicken, feeling a bit squirmy himself. “Well, there were a couple of reasons. One big reason was work. It was pretty heavily frowned upon, so there’s that.” He moved to the sink to wash his hands, scrubbing a bit harder than necessary. “Then there was you.”_ _

__oOo_ _

__Natasha looked up, startled. “Me?”_ _

__“Yes, you. You never gave me any sign that you had any feeling for me at all. I mean,” he dried his hands on a dishtowel then laid it on the counter. “We slept together a few times, but I never got the impression that it really meant anything to you.”_ _

__Natasha felt her heart flutter. _He thought it had meant nothing to her, that she had used him for sex.__ _

__“I don’t mean to make you sound like you never cared about me or anything, just that you never,” he gestured in the air, “ _cared_ about me.”_ _

__Natasha brushed her hair back from her face with both hands. He thought she didn’t care. _He had no idea. No idea at all. She had loved him and wanted him for years, and he had no clue. Was he that dense, or was she that bad at emotions?__ _

__“I dunno, Tasha, you’re so hard to read. Your heart was leather and steel for everyone around you. You’d taken self defense and turned it into art. Why would I be different? I knew I was a little different, I knew I saw parts of you that everyone else didn’t, but I never knew how much. I had to assume you didn’t care.”_ _

__Oh, God, it was just as she thought. She’d shown her face to him and he hadn’t recognized it. It was just as she’d feared._ _

__“That was reinforced when I couldn’t see you, when you wouldn’t visit. I understand why and do not blame you one bit, but given your unreadability, your absence and Hydra in my head…” he trailed off, shrugged and pulled the mushrooms to him to begin slicing._ _

__Natasha sat in stunned silence._ _

__oOo_ _

__As he tipped the mushrooms into a bowl, Natasha asked him, “What changed? What made you decide to…reach out?”_ _

__Clint pulled the pan out. “When I started coming out of it at the Tower, Tony would come see me. He told me about how you checked in every time you called, how you’d had me moved when I wasn’t getting better. Plus,” he dumped the garlic in with the mushrooms, “going through something like that forces you to reevaluate your priorities.”_ _

__“Yeah, you mentioned that earlier.”_ _

__Clint left the question hanging as he threw everything into the frying pan and turned the heat on. He put the lid on, walked over to the iPod, pressed the screen, and a slow sultry drum beat started through the kitchen. Clint turned it up as Jeff Buckley began to sing._ _

__He held out a hand to her. “Dance with me?”_ _

__Natasha looked at his hand for the briefest moment before taking it and letting him pull her to her feet._ _

__He pulled her hand up around his neck before releasing it, she snaked her other hand up to follow suit. Clint put his hands on her hips, bunching them into the material of her dress after a few seconds in an attempt to keep them from flying all over her. He pulled her body into his with his bunched fists, wrapping one arm around her waist as Natasha slid her arms around his neck, drawing him closer._ _

__He pierced her with his eyes and his free hand roamed her back and shoulder as they swayed back and forth. He brought his fingers up to her face and his eyes followed as his hand traced down to tuck her hair behind her ear and brush it away from her shoulder, tracing his fingers over the bare skin there, tickling her, bringing up gooseflesh. He kissed her nose as he reached behind his neck to grab her right hand, curling it in and lying it on his chest, covering it with his own hand. She curled her fingers around his._ _

__Her smell was surrounding him, the light in her eyes was blinding him, he was drowning in Natasha. He was going to die a happy man._ _

__Clint closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against hers. “Ahh, God, Natasha.” He pulled her even closer as they danced. “I'm drowning in you, Tasha. You’ll be the death of me.”_ _

__She moved her forehead away from his to bury her face in his neck, he could swear he felt the whisper of a kiss there._ _

__She laid her head against his shoulder and sighed, he stroked her back with his cheek on her her hair._ _

__“Clint?”_ _

__“Yeah, sweetheart?”_ _

__“What’s your new priority?”_ _

__He chucked and kissed her hair because he just couldn’t help himself. “Do you need to ask?”_ _

__“Please tell me.”_ _

__He stroked her back again. “You are, Natasha.”_ _

__He felt her relax in his arms and he knew - he’d made his shot._ _

__“You’ve always been one of my priorities, but now, you’re pretty much it.”_ _

__“What about shooting? What about work?” She was grasping, he knew, for the last little bit to keep from admitting to herself that this war was won._ _

__“Well, I like work, but I can certainly live without it. As far as shooting…I love my bow. It’s part of me and I love it. But when I had it and you were gone, I was miserable.” He started rubbing circles on her back with his thumb. “When Hydra had me, I thought about shooting and missed it, but not like I thought about you and missed you.” He kissed her hair again. “I love my bow and I love shooting, but I could live without them. I can’t live without you._ _

__“My priorities became very clear to me. You won, hands down.”_ _

__She nuzzled in closer and he sighed happily. _Bullseye, Barton.__ _

__“Clint?”_ _

__“Yeah, sweetheart?”_ _

__He heard a hint of mischief in her voice. “Where does the chicken fall on the priority list?”_ _

__“Shit.”_ _


End file.
